


Chronology

by Shalebridge_Cradle



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 02:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16845268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shalebridge_Cradle/pseuds/Shalebridge_Cradle
Summary: The memories are out of order.





	Chronology

**Author's Note:**

> It's smut. I can't write it, but people seemed to like it when I posted it on my Tumblr. However, Tumblr's making some questionable decisions as of late, so best to archive it here. Please forgive me.

Heather has never felt so warm.

To her hangover-muddled brain, the only thing ruining the moment is the leftovers from a night of drinking – a migraine and an ache in the pit of her stomach. Otherwise, it’s perfect – birds singing sweet melodies from the treetops, the soft glow of sunshine peeking through the curtains, the arms wrapped protectively around her midriff…

…

Oh-kay.

No need to panic. She’s been here before, little spoon to a mysterious stranger – all she has to do is figure out where she is and hightail it out of there before Whoever-the-fuck manages to stir from his slumber.

Heather cracks one eye open.

Red carpet, pink walls, glass coffee table. It’s hers.

Fuck.

Right, moving on, next point of inquiry. She pulls back the covers to get a better look at the hands that bind her. A couple of interesting things about that. First, Chandler’s completely naked (she usually keeps some clothes on, preserving what little remains of her dignity).

Second, there’s navy nail polish on her bedmate’s fingernails -

( _Digging into her cheek, her neck, her thighs, leaving burning trails as they scraped down Heather’s back_ -)

Okay, _now_ she’s allowed to panic.

Veronica Sawyer, forger, second-in-command, Chandler’s only possible equal in the entire tri-county area, nuzzles her face into Heather’s collarbone. Still blissfully unconscious, it seems. Did anyone catch on? Chandler wouldn’t have told anyone, even when pissed out of her mind. The party was at… AJ’s place, right? Certainly not her own, so she must have driven back – oh Jesus, she hopes the fence and her Ford are both still intact. It’s definitely a possibility, she had enough that night that these flashes of memory are all she has.

( _She remembers it was her fault. Standing just a bit too close the entire time, breath hot on the back of Veronica’s neck, tracing patterns on Veronica’s thigh as they sat in Chandler’s car, and_ _she remembers that_ _Veronica_ _just_ snapped _-_ )

Chandler debates with herself on her next course of action. Should she wake Veronica up? Slip out of the hold as best she can, and pretend last night was just another party?

Heather looks herself over, and decides against the latter. She spies a dark bite mark just above her right breast, and she knows Veronica has some herself -

( _“You’re mine,” Chandler growled in her ear, “_ mine _, you understand? You need a reminder.” Veronica cried out as Heather sunk her teeth in-_ )

\- Which means Heather has to give her an explanation. Yes, part of the reason Veronica got a full-time position as popular girl was because Chandler thought she was pretty. No, all those one-on-one croquet games and trips to the mall weren’t just a friend thing. Yes, she was jealous when Veronica spent too long talking to that trenchcoat weirdo in the convenience store, which is why she was all over the poor girl at the party.

 _Still, seems she’s not_ against _dating me_ , Heather muses as she takes Veronica’s hand, rubbing her thumb-

_(Against her clit, two fingers inside her, thrusting slowly as Veronica begged for more, harder, faster -_ )

Over _the back of_ _Veronica’s_ _hand_. That’s _all_. Christ, Chandler’s brain needs to stop reminding her for a second or ten.

Veronica’s breathing speeds up, just a touch, and Heather ends her secret show of affection, pretending to be asleep when Veronica returns to reality.

After a moment as Veronica takes in the surroundings, Heather hears the breathing stop entirely. Hears the pounding heart poised to go right through the ribcage with its intensity.

Hears the tiniest squeal escape Veronica’s mouth.

…Well, that could mean anything. That could be “oh my god, I can’t believe how badly I fucked up by sleeping with this unholy monster” or it could be “oh my god, I can’t believe how lucky I am to have slept with this gorgeous goddess”.

Only one way to find out.

Heather groans, keeping up the charade as she rolls over, eyes slowly fluttering open (she knows it’s only like this in movies, but she’s damn well gonna pretend she’s as perfect as the girls on the silver screen). “Morning.”

Veronica lies there, stiff as a corpse, eyes wide. This gives Heather absolutely nothing to work with.

“I know you’re still alive,” Heather continues in a sing-song voice, “you’re gonna have to woman up to what happened.”

( _Veronica_ _kept Heather’s legs spread far apart as she she kissed and nipped at the inside of Chandler’s thighs, skipping over where she needed it most with a flick of her tongue. Torture._

“ _Tease,” Heather hissed._

_Veronica looked up at her, eyes as dark as midnight. “You know you deserve it.”_

_Then she licked, long and slow_ _across Heather’s folds_ _,_ _and she was rewarded with a shuddering gasp_ _._ )

“Which part?” Veronica croaks.

“All of it.”

Veronica’s gaze flickers down, just for a moment, and her face, pale as anything a second ago, turns a deep, dark red.

“I’m… sorry?” Heather raises an eyebrow at the verbal flailing. “Wait, no… I’m not sorry. What exactly am I supposed to say that won’t make you bite my head off?”

“Veronica, what makes you think anything either of us say will leave this room?”

“If there’s any sort of secret that can be used against someone, you will always take the opportunity to ruin someone’s life with it.”

Heather sighs, pulling away from Veronica’s embrace to sit up. She notes how Veronica somehow manages to blush even deeper than before at the sight of Heather’s naked body.

( _There was something about the way Veronica looked at her, when she finally got everything off. She had people stare at her before, make no mistake, but it was usually like a greedy little kid in a candy store – a more selfish kind of wanting, the need to take everything and leave nothing._

_This was more like awe. Like she was taking in some immaculate artwork, like she had seen the face of God._

_Heather had never felt so precious._

_Veronica should be rewarded for this demonstration of innocence, she decided._

_Rewarded through its destruction._ )

“You’re not wrong,” Heather admits, “but there’s no way in hell I’m gonna ruin _myself_. Can you imagine what’d happen to us if this got out?”

“I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

“Exactly. Now, time for honesty hour, Sawyer.”

Veronica stares up at the ceiling, brow furrowed. “I don’t… regret it, exactly. Don’t think we should’ve done it drunk, but that was probably the only way we were gonna work up the nerve to go through with it. Certainly didn’t know you were into girls ‘til last night.”

“I had to hide it well,” Heather replies, simply.

(This is what it’s supposed to feel like, _Heather thought to herself_ _as she came undone, as Veronica helped her ride it out,_ this is the reason for all the fuss. This is Heaven, and I’m going to Hell for it.)

“…Yeah. I get that. So, do you want to keep this thing going?”

Heather smirks. “Already up for another round?”

“Wait, that’s not what I meant!” Veronica doesn’t say ‘no’, though. “I mean, y’know, this. Me and you. Is this a one-night stand, or do you wanna keep up the relationship?”

( _She kissed Veronica_ _again,_ _after it was all over. Not hot and desperate, not a raging fire. This was_ _soft,_ _smouldering._ _A gentle push against Veronica’s lips, and Veronica pressed back with the same amount of force._ )

“The second one. It’s more a matter of if we _can_ without anyone else getting wise to it.”

Veronica considers this for a long time. Sometime she stares at the walls, or the roof, or Heather, all with a face of melancholy.

“Maybe we can find a way around it,” Veronica’s voice says she’s grasping at straws, and her eyes say she knows it, “less than a year before we’re out of this dump, so there’s that.”

“Hm.”

“…Listen. For now, we can pretend there’s nothing outside that bedroom door. What do you wanna do?”

Heather takes only a moment to respond. “Stay like this. With you here, and nothing else that can hurt.”

“Your wish is my command,” Veronica murmurs, and Heather sinks back into her arms. Time will bring what it brings.

For the moment, it stands still.


End file.
